Long and Complicated
by Little Illy
Summary: Narrow streets, crowded houses, big dogs, ally cats, barbie and GI Joe.Uncle Moe’s Candy store. Turf wars on driveways. And no one gets away with anything, because gossip spreads fast. This is the Burg— where Stephanie Plum first met Joe Morelli
1. My First Rebellion

**Chapter One—My First Rebellion**

The problem I've found with being told something is bad for me, is that it usually makes me want it more.

Take cake, for example. When I was a girl, my mother steadfastly refused to let me have a second serving of cake for dessert. "It's bad for you," she insisted. Of course, my childish mind didn't understand the concept of calories or whale-blubber thighs. All I knew was that I wasn't allowed more cake for no good reason. Which made having more cake a double delight—the joy of sugar and eggs baked together, washed down with the knowledge that I was being naughty. It's a lesson I've unfortunately carried into adulthood resulting in an unhealthy obsession with dessert foods, and a very unhealthy obsession with rule breaking.

I'm fairly sure a lot of my problems in adulthood can be traced back to having something forbidden as a child. Such was the case with Joe Morelli.

Joe and I both grew up in the Burg, only two streets away from each other. The Burg is a little slice of Trenton, New Jersey, where the houses are as close as the people in them. Everyone in the Burg is related to everyone else somehow, and it's these extended family ties that keep the neighbourhood together. I was born a child of the Burg. I didn't know it then, but the streets and sideways around my house which made up the Burg would be the centre of my existence until the day I died. The children in the houses around me would be my friends, my enemies, my idols, my loves, my ex-loves-- but always- my family.

When I first met Joseph Morelli I was barely aware of the intricate web of Burg society that surrounded me. I was three and a half. I could walk and talk well enough, and I was about ready to find out what the world outside of my parent's house had to offer.

My older sister Valerie was six, and she was a perfect social butterfly. It seemed to me like she knew everyone. She had at least five or six girls who hung around with her. They could be found every afternoon playing hopscotch on the drive, or pretending to be mothers with a large collection of plastic baby dolls. Valerie and her friends were the very picture of what a mother hoped for in the Burg—they were polite, sweet, interested in dolls and toy kitchen sets, and when they grew up they wanted to be married.

I was still too young to know for sure what I wanted to be when I grew up. I didn't really know for sure what I wanted to be right now. Most of my sister's dolls didn't interest me, though I did like the way Betsy Wetsy gushed water all over her knickers if you gave her too much to drink. But I was more interested in the science of it, than in being a mommy.

It was a quiet spring afternoon when I met Joseph Morelli. Valerie was playing house with Andrea-Rose from across the street. My Grandma and Grandpop were sitting on the front porch watching her play. And somewhere inside, my mother was cooking dinner, keeping a watchful eye on me through the kitchen window. Betsy Wetsy and I were playing on the drive. I would force a bottle of water in through her sterile plastic lips, and watch in delight as it came out the other end.

A strange ringing sound filled the air. The tolling of a bicycle bell. This was a relatively new sound to my young ears. I looked up eagerly, trying to find the maker of the noise. There, at the end of our street, a boy was ringing the bell on a shiny red tricycle. As I watched, he stopped ringing the bell and began to peddle. He was coming this way!

I watched in awe as he moved up our street with ease coming closer towards me. I saw him touch the silver bell on the handlebars and the bell rang again. It was probably the most fascinating thing I had seen in my life.

I abandoned Betsy Wetsy- tossing her unceremoniously onto the drive- and dashed across the lawn towards my sister.

"Val-y, Val-y" I hollered.

Valerie turned to me angrily. "What Stephanie? We're trying to play house, and you're interrupting." Andrea-Rose glared at me.

I took no notice, grabbing a hold of my sister's smock and tugging excitedly, "Val-y, look! Lookit there." I pointed excitedly at the boy on the tricycle.

Valerie rolled her eyes. "Big deal."

"Who's him?" I asked in my broken English.

"Who is he." Valerie corrected.

"Who is he!"

Valerie shrugged, "A Morelli. Joseph Morelli." Valerie knew everyone. "He's in kindergarten."

I stared at Joseph Morelli, my jaw hanging open. Not only could he ride a trike, but he was a big-kid too. He went to school and everything. At that moment, I wanted nothing more then to be a big-kid like Joseph Morelli and ride a shiny red trike.

I tried to convey this to my apathetic sister. "I want what he's doing."

Valerie groaned and rolled her eyes again. "It's just a trike, Stephanie. Daddy says he's gonna teach me to ride a two wheeler this summer."

I didn't really care what Daddy said he'd teach Valerie in the summer. I only had eyes for Joseph Morelli and his trike.

"Go away, Steph!" My sister cried. "You're so annoying."

I trudged away from Valerie and Andrea-Rose, still watching Joseph Morelli. He was riding around in a circle outside Sammy and Sarah Barker's house. Both the Barker kids and Andrea-Rose's brother Nickie, were watching him. Joseph hollered obnoxiously and rang his bell, triumphantly disrupting the peace.

Something moved over me, casting a shadow on the grass where it obscured the sun's fading light. I looked up to see Grandma Mazur smiling down at me. "What do you think of that boy's bike?" She said, "looks pretty swish, eh?"

I nodded.

"Bet you wish you had a bike like that," she said. "Your old grandma wishes she had a bike like that. Maybe that one would be a bit small for me though." Grandma Mazur laughed. "But what a colour. Fire engine red." She smiled warmly at me, and I felt somehow that she completely understood me. "Say Stephanie, why don't you ask that boy if you can have a ride?"

I stared up at her, half afraid, half excited by her proposition. Could I really just go and ask? Was there some chance this marvellous boy would give me a go on his tricycle?

"Quick, Steph" Grandma said, "Go now, before he leaves."

After a moment's hesitation, I gave in and ran towards Joseph Morelli. He had moved on from the Barker's house, and was making his way to our drive. We met at the footpath and he slowed to a halt.

He looked me up and down with an appraising eye. "You're Stephanie Plum," he said.

I nodded shyly. Up close Joseph Morelli looked even more amazing and frightening then he did from a distance. He was a lot taller then me and probably stronger too. He had black hair like all of the Morelli kids and his eyes reminded me of chocolate pudding. One baby-tooth was missing on the right side of his top jaw—he was so big his teeth were falling out! From atop the seat of his tricycle, Joseph Morelli looked me over, considered my worthiness. "Well Stephanie Plum," he said finally, "Do you like my trike?"

I nodded again. I plucked up all the courage I could muster and asked, "Can I have a ride?"

Joseph Morelli considered this. "I don't know," he said. "What will you give me in return?"

I furrowed my brow. I didn't have anything I could offer.

"Got any sweets?" he asked. "I hear your mum makes real good ginger snaps."

I shook my head "They're only for after dinner."

"Hmm," he said, "What about a kiss then?"

"What about it?" I asked.

Joseph Morelli groaned. "Will you give me a kiss, if I let you ride my trike?"

This was a confusing proposition. "I can't kiss you." I said.

"Why not?"

"Because," I thought about it for a moment. "Because I only kiss Mommy, and Daddy, and Grandma and Granpop."

Joseph Morelli grinned at me. "You've never tried to kiss me." He said, "How do you know you can't?"

I looked down at my shoes. Joseph Morelli was trying to trick me. I wasn't quite sure how, or why, but I knew he was. He thought he knew everything because he was in kindergarten and he had a red tricycle. Well, I'd show him. "I won't kiss you Joseph Morelli. Not now. Not never!" And I stamped my foot to let him know I was serious.

He just grinned.

At that moment, my mother burst out of the house, soup ladle in hand. "Stephanie!" She yelled, "What are you doing so close to the road? Come here right away!"

I ran back towards the house as fast as I could, but it wasn't fast enough to escape my mother's wrath. She had already caught me away from the house, talking to a strange boy. There was going to be trouble. "Sorry mama." I squeaked.

My mother grabbed my arm and pulled me up the steps to the house. "What have I told you about going too far away from the house. A car could have come and knocked you over. Or someone could have come snatched you. Always stay with your sister when you're outside."

"Yes mama."

"And who was that boy?" She asked.

My eyes lit up in excitement. "Joseph Morelli!" I said. "Valerie says he's in kindergarten. An' I saw one of his teeth had falled out. An' he has a red trike, which he said I could ride if-" fortunately, my mother cut me off.

"Now you listen to me Stephanie," She said, "Those Morelli boys are all trouble. The stories I hear about Tony Morelli and his gang of hoodlums. And Joseph Morelli is no better. He's just like his brothers, and his father, and all those Morelli men. I don't want you to go near any of them."

"But why?" I asked. I had rather liked talking to Joseph Morelli.

"I told you, they're bad kids. I don't want you getting mixed up in that. Why don't you play with your sister and her friends? They're all good girls." She looked me in the eyes, and I felt like she could see right into my heart. "If I find out you've been talking to Joseph Morelli again, it's big trouble for you Stephanie. Understand?"

I nodded. "Yes mama."

My mother stared at me for a long time, her gaze boring into the very depth of my being. She was searching for the little seed of deceit I was hiding, but I managed to squish it out of her sight. Finally, she let me go. "Good girl. Now go play with your sister."

My mother disappeared back to her den in the kitchen. I watched the kitchen window, knowing that she would be looking out, watching my every move.

Joseph Morelli had taken off. He was already halfway back down the street. It was no good. Even if my mother wasn't watching, he was too far away; I'd never catch him now.

Just then, Joseph Morelli turned around. He looked up the street towards my house. Our eyes locked. Even from this distance, I could see his sneaky grin. "Hey Stephanie Plum," he yelled. "If you ever change your mind—I'll still let you have a ride on my trike."

I tried to hide my grin behind a fake frown as I yelled back "Not never, Joseph Morelli!" But that was a lie. I'd made up my mind then and there; I'd kiss Joseph Morelli all he liked, if he'd just let me have a go on that trike. And even if I got bored of riding, I'd still talk to him. So what if mommy said he was no good—in my experience, the things mommy said were bad for me, I usually liked the best.


	2. How I learnt to play Choochoo

**Chapter Two- How I learnt to play Choochoo**

I've been called a lot of things in my life. Stupid, comes to mind a lot. Insane in more recent years. Slut, bitch, whore, freak. A credit risk. An accident waiting to happen. Gorgeous, plane, and downright frightening. A danger to myself and others. Cookie. Cupcake. Sweetie. Babe. Immature. Not marriage material. The unstable daughter. An underachiever. Impulsive. Naive. Gullible.

But the best description by far was from my kindergarten teacher on my first school report. "Stephanie is enthusiastic but foolhardy. She is easily coerced by her peers and often led into trouble." Mrs Delaney's comments couldn't have been more apt. And not just in kindergarten, but for the rest of my life. I have always had a problem with falling for bad ideas. It really only takes a few persuasive words and a charismatic smile, and I'll follow almost anyone. Which is why I've fallen victim to Joseph Morelli my entire life.

Morelli is annoyingly good at being persuasive. Even as a little kid he had a smile that could convince me to do anything. As long as I've been easily coerced, Morelli has been there to coerce me. He comes from very charismatic stock. Persuasiveness is in the genes. That's how the Morelli men manage to keep getting beautiful women to stay with them, even after they become abusive. Joe has used his powers on many girls-- I was but one of the hundreds that fell victim to him. Though the way he tells it, I've always been a special case-- I was his first victim.

Joseph Morelli had always been trouble. From the day he was born, he was up and down the streets of the Burg, picking on smaller kids and playing favourites with the older ones. He had a way of getting things from people-- toys, sweets, whatever he wanted. And his victims would keep coming back for more. The burg had already had a taste of the trouble that was to come- but it wasn't until the tender age of eight, that he began to fully utilize his power. It was just my luck that he worked it out the day we walked home from school together.

It was almost four o'clock by the time I was let out by Mrs Schultz, the dragon lady. She had kept me in a full forty five minutes after the bell went, making me right out "I will not make false accusations" twenty times. I might have got out after fifteen minutes, but I was then, only six. I was still having trouble remembering my ABC's. The word "accusations" was well beyond me. I finally managed to replicate the sentence from the board correctly over twenty wobbly lines. Mrs Schultz reluctantly let me go.

It wasn't like I'd even done anything wrong. Joyce Barnhard and I had been fighting again. She said my hair looked stupid, so I said her face looked stupid. Then she scratched me, so I pulled her hair. We tussled around on the ashfelt, still trading insults for a while, until the teachers came to break up the fight. I tried to explain that Joyce had insulted my honour, but she was too quick for me. She started crying and saying that I said her daddy didn't love her. I got in real trouble for that one. No one's allowed to say anything about Joyce's daddy, since he went to she shops to buy some milk, and never came back. My mommy says he left "that crazy woman" who is Joyce's mommy, and that she "wasn't surprised." But the thing was, I didn't say anything about Joyce's daddy! Well, not that time anyway.

Mary Lou, my bestest best friend, has said she'd wait for me at the school gate, so we could still walk home together. She wasn't waiting for me by the time Mrs Schultz let me go. I didn't blame her. The sun was warm, and the breeze cool. Not a cloud in the sky. No need for mittens. It was a perfect day and no-one wanted to spend it hanging around school all afternoon. Mary Lou probably went of with Sally and Josephine to buy candy or play dolls in the park. I would just have to walk home alone.

I hadn't gone more then fifty meters before I heard the sound of someone else walking behind me. Their shadow fell across me. I looked back. It was Joey Morelli. He skipped to catch up with me. "Well, well," he said. "Stephanie Plum."

"Hello, Joey Morelli," I said.

"What are you doing out of school so late?"

I frowned. My mother was probably going to ask that. I would have to lie to her, and say I was with Mary Lou in the park. But Joey Morelli could hear the truth. "Mrs Schultz made me stay in and write lines."

"The dragon lady," Joey said knowledgeably. "I had her in second grade. You're in first grade, right?"

"Uh-huh." 

"Mrs Schultz is the worst. She used to get me in trouble all the time," he said. "You just gotta get some dirt on her. Then she can't make you do anything."

"Get dirt on her?" I asked. Surely Joey didn't think throwing dirt on Mrs Schultz would make her stop giving me lines. She'd probably just give me more!

"You know, find out something about her that she doesn't like," he explained. "Then, if she tries to get you in trouble, you just bring it up and she stops."

This sounded like a very odd idea to me. I didn't think there was anything in the world that could stop Mrs Schultz from giving me lines to right. But Joey Morelli was older then me, so he was probably wiser. And I was about willing to try anything to avoid more lines. "How do I find 'dirt' on her?"

"You gotta dig around," he said. "Like, listen out to what she says to the other teachers, and stuff." I furrowed my brow. "Ok, you're probably not up to that yet. Tell you what, my brother Tony had Mrs Schultz when he was in third grade, and he found the best dirt on her. So, he told me. Now I'm gonna tell you." I prepared to listen eagerly. "But you gotta promise that you'll use this wisely." 

"I will, I swear." I said.

"Now Ms Plum, there's no need to swear," Joey said. "What would your mother say. Just promise."

"Ok, I promise!" I was impatient to hear this 'dirt'.

"Alright." He stopped walking and looked around. We were walking down Morrison crescent, about half a block from school. Narrow burg houses lined both sides of the street. Though all of the houses were inhabited by families that went to school with us, none of the children were around. Joey deemed these conditions to be satisfactory. He leaned forward, bent down, and whispered to me, "Any time Mrs Schultz tries to get you in trouble-" I leaned closer to him, soaking up every word. "Just ask her, what she did during the war."

"Huh?" I said. "How will that help?" Joey Morelli was stupid for thinking that would stop the dragon lady.

"Just trust me!" Joey said, "It works."

I put my hands on my hips. "You're trying to trick me, Joey Morelli." I said. "My mommy says you're no good. That you're always playing tricks. I think you're trying to get me in trouble."

"It works, stupid, because Mrs Schultz is a German," he said. "They were the baddies in the war. She probably killed people and stuff, and she doesn't want anyone to know. Jeeze you're thick."

"Oh," I said. "And that will really work?"

Joey turned his head away from me and thrust his nose into the air. "I told you it would." And he started walking off without me.

I ran to catch up. "Hey, wait. Why are _you_ out of school so late?"

Joey faltered, looking guilty. "I'm skipping soccer practice," he said.

"You play soccer?" I asked.

"No," Joey said. "That's the problem. My dad wants me to learn to play soccer real good. But I hate it. It's a stupid lame game. And I'm no good at it. My dad doesn't like it when I lose." For a moment I thought Joey Morelli looked a little bit afraid of something. But then it was gone. "So, I went to practice and then pretended I was sick, so they let me go." He grinned.

I felt a goofy grin spread across my face too. There was something about Joey Morelli that made me grin. I couldn't help it. Mommy said he was a bad kid. He was trouble. She said I should stay away from him. But he was so smart. He knew how to get out of soccer practice and stop Mrs Schultz for getting me in trouble. Plus, I liked talking to him. "Whacha gonna do now?" I asked.

"I dunno," he said. "But anything's better then soccer. Maybe I'll go down to Uncle Moes and get the older girls to buy me stuff." 

"They do that?" I asked. Most of the older girls I knew were my sister's friends. They usually just chased me out of Valerie's room and slammed the door. Or else they tried to make me their "baby" when they played house. Valerie and her friends never bought me candy from Uncle Moe's.

"All the time," Joey said. "If I hang around and bite my bottom lip, they say I'm really cute, and buy me things. They don't just buy the penny candy neither. Some of them buy me those big round swirly lolly pops."

"Thats amazing. You must be really really cute for them to buy you those. My mommy won't even buy me those." It seemed to me like Joey Morelli could do anything. He could probably ride a two-wheeler with out training wheels, and spell "accusations" without looking at the board.

"I'd show you, but they probably wouldn't give me any lollies with you around," he said. "You're not cute enough." I was a little offended, but then, he was probably right. We'd walked almost all the way to my house, by now. I looked up the familiar street and realized we were in Fitzgerald Lane. Joey's street. And behind us was his house. The large cream two story building rose out of a slight hill, surrounded by a perfect bed of roses and chrysanthemums. I felt a little sad. Joey would probably go home now and I'd have to walk the rest of the way by myself.

"You can come to my house," Joey said, as if he had read my thoughts. "If you want."

I really really wanted to go to Joey Morelli's house. But I was also a little afraid. "I don't know, my mommy says I'm not allowed." 

Joey grinned. "Yeah, because I'm a trouble maker, right?" I nodded. "Stephanie Plum, I've walked you almost all the way home and have I made any trouble?"

I thought about it. "No."

"Infact," he said, "haven't I taught you how to get out of trouble?"

Come to think of it, he had. Joey Morelli had been really nice to me all afternoon. He had walked me home when my friends have left me, even though he could have gone and got free candy from older girls. He'd told me how to stop Mrs Schultz getting mad with me. And he certainly hadn't caused any trouble or done anything bad (well, apart from skipping soccer practice. But if I had to go to soccer practice, I'd probably want to skip too). "No. You've been real good and nice to me all afternoon."

"So," Joey said. "Do you think I'm a trouble maker? Do you want to listen to your mommy, and stay away from me?" Heck no. Joey Morelli lent down, so he could look me in the eyes. "Or do you want to come to my house, and we can play choochoo in my dad's garage."

I was already caught, well and truly, in Joseph Morelli's trap. He had been playing me the entire way home. This whole thing had been a part of his game. If only I knew, if I only I could have seen through his tricks. But that was always my problem. I was easily coerced, and easily led. I was the perfect victim. "What's choochoo?"

Joey's eyes literally twinkled in delight. "If you come play, I'll show you." And then he smiled. It was a flawless, toothy, charming grin. All my resolve vanished.

"Well," I said. "Ok."

Joey Morelli grabbed my hand and pulled me towards his father's garage. "Just don't tell your mommy about this."


End file.
